


A Very Vulcan Christmas

by Moriwen



Series: Exchange Student [2]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Christmas, Female Protagonist, Gen, Religion, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-30
Updated: 2015-03-30
Packaged: 2018-03-20 10:00:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3646068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moriwen/pseuds/Moriwen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>T'Pring does not celebrate Christmas. T'Pring is just conducting preliminary tests on experimental thermoregulatory materials.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Very Vulcan Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> In the same continuity as Paving Stones and Universe 4 of This Coyness, Lady. But it stands on its own.
> 
> In this 'verse, T'Pring attends Starfleet Academy while Spock stays on Vulcan and attends the VSA.
> 
> Inspired by [this](http://writeworld.org/post/114978173445/im-not-the-one-whos-jumping-in-puddles-in-the) tumblr prompt.

T'Pring is conducting preliminary tests on experimental thermoregulatory materials. An instructor in the chemical engineering lab has requested that she expose the protective clothing to extremal temperature and climate conditions, and evaluate its performance by multiple metrics. No course credit was offered in return for the voluntary time investment, but the Academy schedule has been reduced in recognition of multiple Terran cultural holidays, and as a result T'Pring has sufficient time that she can invest it for no short-term profit but likely long-term returns.

Ice crystals have formed on the bare branches of the deciduous shade trees that line the walkway, and the boughs bend deeply under the weight. Beneath, snow drifts map out the wind patterns, and muddied footprints carve out a bell curve of random deviations from a straight-line path.  
  
T-Pring considers a mental reference to the Drunkard's Walk, but finds it superfluous.

Poor-quality sound recordings of popular Christmas music play from inside shops, floating out the open doors on a blast of heated air which provides welcome, if momentary, relief from the weather. On the corner, a young woman picks out simple harmonies on a stringed instrument, crooning along in a dead Earth language. A large dog, its harness lying loose in the snow, crouches at her feet, its wet nose turned away from the cutting wind.

It is too cold for the animal to be outside. T'Pring drops a cafeteria token into the bowl between the dog's paws. Perhaps the woman will use it to take herself, and her pet, indoors.

Passing cadets move away from T'Pring, as she conducts permeability and impact resilience tests in the gutter. Melted water, mixed with slush and grime, splashes up to her shins but fails to penetrate the protective clothing. This is a satisfactory initial outcome.

As the students avoid her, T'Pring notices, they are also avoiding another cadet. He is underdressed for the weather, wearing shorts and sandals, and he has a number of large, hand-made signs with him. Some are propped against the wall, some lie on the ground, and one of them is attached to a long pole, apparently for ease of waving. The motion makes reading the closely-spaced lettering more difficult, but it also serves to instinctually draw the eye. A logical trade-off.

The man is also shouting.

As T'Pring draws closer, she begins to follow the general tenor of the man's exclamations. He seems to be promoting some sort of code of morality, or perhaps spreading information about historical events. A university is a logical choice of venue for either, but T'Pring does not understand the chosen method of disseminating information. It would have been more effective for the man to post a notice containing this information, or to have spoken to a professor about incorporating it into their curriculum. As it is, the man's behavior appears to be alienating his potential audience.

T'Pring conducts another brief trial of the clothing, then approaches the man to determine his purpose. "Live long and prosper," she greets him, offering the ta'al. She then adds "Good afternoon," because while no educated person would fail to recognize the Vulcan salute, it is nonetheless courteous to greet a stranger after their own customs.

"Yeah, hi," says the man, failing to give the appropriate response to either of her greetings. He also takes a step backwards with one foot, despite the fact that T'Pring has not come closer than the distance at which Terrans ordinarily converse.

"What information do you seek to disseminate?" T'Pring inquires. The man appears to be having trouble speaking, but gestures in the direction of one of his signs. The writing is easy to read, large, neatly colored black letters. AND AS IT IS APPOINTED UNTO MEN ONCE TO DIE BUT AFTER THIS THE JUDGEMENT.

"That is a sentence fragment," T'Pring observes.

"Ma'am, I'm gonna just ask you, have you ever sinned?" the man asks. He takes two steps forward. Perhaps he is from a culture where the designated radius of "personal space" is smaller.

"And that is a non-sequitur," says T'Pring, reprovingly. "Your debate skills appear to be below average, as do your oratorial abilities. Both of these faults will prove do be harmful in your chosen career. Are you aware that the university offers free remedial speech classes to students?"

"Well," says the man, raising his voice but failing to engage with T'Pring's statement, "I'm here to just tell you the good news, that your sin is washed away in the blood of Jesus Christ the Lamb of God!"

"I see," says T'Pring.

"...You do?" the man asks, after a moment.

"Yes. This is the information you are seeking to share?"

"This is the Good News of Jesus Christ, Ma'am," the man confirms, thumping the butt of of the pole on the ground.

"And yet you have failed to cite a reputable source, nor have you offered me any reproducible evidence of this claim. Moreover, you could logically conclude that, as a Vulcan, I was less likely than average to be aware of this information, and yet you failed to address me specifically and in fact attempted to avoid speaking to me. Your logic is flawed," T'Pring concludes firmly. "Amend it."  
  
The man drops his sign, and backs off rapidly as though T'Pring had threatened to physically assault him. "I - I - I'm not the one who's jumping in puddles in the middle of winter, lady!" he shrieks, and abandons his post altogether.

"Zat vas _amazing_!" exclaims a cadet nearby. He has just come out from the onion-domed church next door, his uniform not yet touched by snow. By his voice, he is very young.

"It was merely a series of observations," T'Pring replies. "His emotional reaction was his own."

"No, no, you do not understand!" The boy rolls up on his toes and down again, almost bouncing in place. "Ve have been trying to get rid of him for _veeks!_ He is giwing all of us a bad reputation. For this, you must come inside, have a hot chocolate!" He reaches out as if to seize T'Pring's sleeve, then promptly thinks better of it and clasps his hands behind his back. His eyes are very wide.

"Thank you," says T'Pring, "I will."

It will be a fascinating cultural experience.


End file.
